


Practical Reverie

by sweeterthankarma



Series: Pride Month Prompts 2020 [17]
Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F, Getting Back Together, Post-Season/Series 4A, Season 4B made this jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Kat sits back against the bench and steels herself. “I guess this would be a good time,” she starts, forcing herself to speak the words she so desperately wants— no, needs— to say before she can think better of it, “to tell you that I’m still in love with you.”
Relationships: Kat Edison/Adena El-Amin
Series: Pride Month Prompts 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769956
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	Practical Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Pride Month and welcome to my first ever month-long fic challenge! For thirty days, I'll be writing and posting LGBTQ+ fics inspired by the prompts listed [here](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/517562182177703635/). These fics will be anywhere from 100-1,500 words, will be for different fandoms, ships and characters, and will all stand alone. Here goes nothing!
> 
> Day 17 Prompt: Relevant.

It’s a perfect sixty five degrees on the June evening that Kat and Adena leave the courtroom, RJ’s case finalized. It feels like all they’ve done for months is think about him and his snobby team and their backwards beliefs, then scramble through ideas of ways to beat him, to get him out of Safford for good. They’ve done it nearly every day for months on end, to the point where most of Kat’s dreams are about complicated legal things going wrong. Though she’s grown used to it, she hopes that tonight she’ll sleep peacefully and without any worries. It’s over. She and Adena won. RJ’s gone and Scarlet’s board is free of one less homophobe. 

Vanilla ice cream dribbles down the back of Kat’s hand. Central Park South is bustling with people as it always tends to be in the summer, easy and accessible. 

“I love this time of year,” Kat says, and Adena hums out an agreement as they settle onto a vacant bench. 

A plane passes overhead, the delayed sound of the engine filling the airwaves once it’s almost out of sight, and Kat looks up to follow its path.

“To LaGuardia,” she comments, earning a soft smile from Adena. They used to play this game, guess where planes were going and where they were coming from. Kat’s played it with plenty of people — her parents, Sutton and Jane, other friends, other exes, but it always reminds her of Adena. Like most things do.

“From...Dallas-Fort Worth,” Adena guesses around a mouthful of sprinkles.

They eat in close silence after that. They’re happy, of course, knowing that all their trials and tribulations and even Kat’s termination of her social media position at Scarlet has changed the overall leadership of the company for the better. But still, something about it is bittersweet, sad, conclusive, and a bit unnerving: there’s really no excuse for them to run into each other anymore. 

They missed the sunset, a pretty mix of magenta and mauve, as the line in the Ben & Jerry’s on West 44th Street was characteristically long. Photos from Jane light up Kat’s phone screen, documenting the sky and showing off her newly decorated office in the process,  and Sutton replies with an abundance of hearts, just as she does every time either of them sends a message. Kat turns her phone over. She’ll reply later. 

She and Adena aren’t quite sure what’s happening around them, too caught up in their own conversation, until they hear clapping and cheering. People stand up from their picnic blankets in the grass and raise styrofoam cups from 7-Eleven that probably have alcohol in them, park laws be damned. Everyone’s attention is on a couple a few yards away, a man on one knee embracing his partner before facing the crowd and raising their intertwined hands in triumph. 

They’re mere shadows from where Kat and Adena sit, but it’s a nice sight all the same. They’ve both seen their fair share of proposals — Adena sees one almost every time  she passes through Times Square, she even keeps a tally of it — but it’s still sweet and exciting, especially as it’s two men. Someone nearby yells something about pride month and Kat cheers, cupping her hand that isn’t holding her waffle cone around her mouth and hollering. Adena claps and grins, but then rolls her eyes when she sees a swarm of people rush to the couple and try to make themselves a part of their moment. 

“How much do you want to bet they’re tourists?” she asks, sounding a tad cynical. 

“The couple or the crowd chasing after them?” Kat replies, gaze staying on the couple even as she feels secondhand embarrassment for everyone flocking to them. 

“Both.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Kat responds. “If they were locals, they’d at least go to Shakespeare’s Garden or the Reservoir. Someplace classier, without the smell of burnt falafel tarnishing the romantic moment. You’d think they would have done it before it got so dark out, too.”

Adena chuckles and goes back to her ice cream. Moments later, she looks up to meet Kat’s eyes and says, “you think they’ll last?”

The comment surprises Kat. “I hope so,” she gets out, and it’s true, she does. But she’s been hoping for other things for a long time now, and one of them is to keep the girl next to her there for far longer than just tonight.

The conversation moves back to their success, Adena nudging Kat’s side as she lists off things that she’d accomplished that she was impressed by or grateful for. Kat flushes, flattered, and reciprocates her praises. She could go on and on— and she sort of wants to. 

Kat isn’t sure where her bravery comes from. She knows that at some point soon, she’ll have to leave. They both will. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that sounds worse to Kat, and she’s filled with fear and the idea that if she lets Adena walk away now, she might never come back.

Kat sits back against the bench and steels herself. “I guess this would be a good time,” she starts, forcing herself to speak the words she so desperately wants — no,  _ needs— _ to say before she can think better of it, “to tell you that I’m still in love with you.” 

It’s dramatic, almost as cinematic as the proposal. It’s her style, reminiscent of how she first confessed her feelings to Adena, but it’s heavier, more meaningful this time, even if it’s a shorter confession.

“I just felt like I should say that…” Kat elaborates, trailing off when Adena doesn’t say anything right away, “you know, because of the proposal we just saw and the big win we had with RJ and also it’s June, you know, pride month, and you were the first person who ever made me recognize the pride in myself…”

“It’s relevant,” Adena agrees conversationally. Her tone matches Kat’s. “It’s a relevant thing to say.”

Kat nods. “And it’s also true.” There. She’s admitted it, fully. The ball is in Adena’s court now.

Adena pretends to think about it, and Kat may know her well — she never stopped knowing her, never even came close to forgetting a single thing about her— but she isn’t fully sure what she’s thinking right now, if she’s honest. Her heart is pounding too hard, her blood rushing in her ears, and all she can do is watch Adena’s face. She’s good at hiding her expressions sometimes— Kat can’t say the same about herself— and though there’s a slight smile on her lips and a hint of surprise and amusement in her eyes, she’s still relatively neutral. 

“Well,” Adena says, just as plainly as Kat had said it, and understanding of Adena’s angle hits her at the same moment that she speaks next, “then I guess it’s only fair for me to tell you that I’m still in love with you too. Never stopped. Not even for a single day.”

Her voice is just as nonchalant and matter-of-fact as Kat’s was but her words are full of conviction and honesty, her eyes even more so. Kat thinks she might see a glimmer of tears, or maybe it’s just the moon or the street lamps or light from a passerby’s phone screen, but when Adena pulls her forward and presses her lips against hers, Kat feels like she could cry too.

It’s been too long since she’s kissed Adena. It’s familiar and she falls back into the rhythm as easily as breathing, but it’s different now, too. When she holds onto Adena, she doesn’t waver, doesn’t feel any hesitation from either of them. They’re confident, steady and sure, both together and apart. Maybe that’s what’s been missing all these other times. 

“Did you think I wasn’t going to feel the same way?” Adena asks, breathless once they’ve finally pulled apart. She grins, laughter and teasing on the edge of her words.

“I don’t know, you were playing it pretty cool,” Kat says, “but I was hoping not.”

Adena pulls Kat into her arms, rests her chin atop her head. “No, I was just playing with you. Giving you payback for all the times you made me guess and wait around.”

Kat elbows her, feigning irritation at the same time she settles deeper into her grasp. Her fingers brush over the smooth fabric of Adena’s maroon hijab, move to trace her lips, her cheekbone, every part of her that she’s missed so much. 

Kat doesn’t fall asleep quickly that night like she had hoped. Instead, she replays the recent memory of Adena’s lips on hers, and the more distant memories of things they used to do together, things that she can’t wait to do again, to do better than she ever did the first time. This kind of practical reverie is far better than any dream she could have, anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi and celebrate pride month with me on Tumblr [here.](https://sweeterthankarma.tumblr.com/)


End file.
